Avalon Press Conference

Not unlike its spiritual predecessor Kamelot, Avalon press conferences were no small shindig. This one was of particular importance.

Lena Dante, PR expert extraordinaire, had pulled out all of the stops.

The Villard Ballroom of the illustrious New York Palace had been painstakingly chosen as the venue. Set up to seat 180 people, Lena had handpicked the publications and a heady amount of the press agents and reporters present. Spanning the board for all demographics and positions, it would be a well-represented room.

Standing just outside the doorway, having left them to stew and chatter enough to get questions and blood flowing, but not so long that they grew entirely restless, the methodically manipulative woman entered the room.

Coming to stand on the small platform, behind the solid mahogany podium, she looked every inch the high-stakes, high-pay representative that she was.

The navy blue Alexander McQueen pencil dress hit her several inches below the knees, sculpted to a curvaceously toned physique, one that she worked hard to maintain. Small and tasteful sapphire earring studded her ears, accompanied by a small necklace that hung in the hollow of her throat, providing a matching ensemble, simple details and nothing that distracted attention from the information that she would be conveying.

The signature red soles of black Louboutin pumps quietly clacked against the dais as Lena approached the podium.

Here, she was at home.

Cameras were set up in the back of the room, filming what was promised to be a momentous evening.

It was 4:56 PM, with the press conference scheduled for 5 PM. There were at least three national news networks that had assured Lena they would be switching to a live feed of the press conference once it began, cutting into their broadcast time. This was something that was almost entirely unprecedented, save for matters of national security and national and international emergency. But then again, Lena continuously strode to break the mold, and almost always hit her mark.

There was an almost tangible silence in the room as all those in attendance focused their attention on Lena.

Eschewing the earwig and backstage producer, Lena was running this show herself without anybody feeding tactics to her - something that was usually reserved for her to do with others.

Black hair was stylishly coiffed in a bun, several strands of bangs falling down the side of her face to soften her features and provide the appearance of approachability and relatability.

Everything that Lena Dante did on this stage was part of a show, an elaborate act, a persona put on to the world. It was a play she had lived her whole life, and one that she naturally excelled at.

“Thank you for being here tonight,” she said, engaging the room with the slightest of smiles tilting up the corner of her mouth.

Needlessly adjusting the mic on the podium, she looked down at the blank sheets of paper in front of her, already knowing exactly how she was going to play this.

“The people and networks and blogs in this room have been specifically selected to be the bearers of news to the rest of the world. An announcement the gravitas and monumental nature of which is unprecedented.”

Taking a moment to make personal eye-to-eye contact with several of the numerous familiar faces, the public relations expert continued. “I’m sure that you’re all more than familiar with me standing before you and announcing something, or correcting something. Tonight will be a bit different, to everyone’s satisfaction, I’m sure.”

Looking off to the wing of the dais, where the unimpeachable Antonia Dain stood waiting, Lena once again looked back at the filled room. “We’re joined now by none other than Ms. Antonia Dain, CEO of Avalon.”

Stepping back from the podium, Lena held her hands clasped loosely behind her back, waiting the imminent appearance of one of only two people involved in Avalon who could handle PR with anything close to Lena’s level of almost obsessive perfectionism.

(This post will be the kickoff for something else, involving Antonia. Following her post, you are welcome to post IC reactions in this thread - this news is being broadcast live across simultaneous networks - and it’ll be open for OOC comments the whole way through)

Once her name was called, Antonia commenced a steadily brisk stride across the floor. As her legs swiftly carried her front and center to take her place alongside Kelly, Santi, Trinity, and Lena, a portion of the crowd broke into applause at the sight of the Queen of Avalon; others had already commenced an inevitable onslaught of unsolicited questions. Piranhas, swarming for the next juicy bite for their tabloid columns.

For this, the world would need a bigger appetite. This night's conference would grace newspaper and tv headlines, talk shows, and countless websites for a long time to come.

Peering out over the faces of all those in attendance, Antonia raised a single hand and called them to silence, met with nigh immediate compliance. Obedience was met with a radiant smile, and she began speaking.

"First of all, thanks to Lena for putting all this together. And also, sorry about this and whatever comes next. Thanks to Santi, a good friend. Thanks to Kelly, the head of my security team, and Trinity, my personal assistant. And to you all," she motioned both arms out toward the crowd with a slight bow, "you're welcome."

The unabashedly proud ironic statement caused a low murmur in the crowd which began taking notes, many with varying degrees of offense. As far as she was concerned, Antonia was doing them a favor. And they weren't the only ones.

"Many weeks ago, Amaranth and the Court of Arcani launched something of a miniature revolution within Gothic City. Even more than the city itself, countless families caught in the midst of the attack suffered through unspeakable circumstances, uprooted from their homes in order to save their lives...those who were able, at least. It was Hell. I know this from experience, because I was there."

At that moment, the veil provided by the hologram faded. Her raven hair faded into red, conventional business-oriented suit replaced by a black armor weave and cape. The calm, familiarly inviting countenance of the Queen of Avalon was replaced by the sudden striking visage of Quintus Knightfall's memetic legacy: The Noir Rose.

The crowd immediately erupted into an uproar, pushing their microphones and recording devices ever closer upon the stage while many of them tried to climb up themselves.

"SHUT UP!" Trinity shouted from behind, erecting a telekinetic wall to force the rowdy bunch backwards. Her outburst caused her to momentarily lose control of power output, violently short-circuiting a nearby speaker. The crowd fell into quiet murmurs once more, out of fear.

"Thank you, Trinity." Antonia resumed. "You all will get to ask your questions when I am done."

"In the spirit of one of my mentors, Quintus Knightfall, I have taken on this identity, and in this selfhood, I engaged - and defeated - the mutant terrorist known as Amaranth. Aeon..."

At her command, a life-sized hologram of the mutant terrorist projected just behind the four on the podium. Beaten, bruised, bloody, and stripped down to the waist, save for a power dampening collar, emblazoned on his chest was the same insignia Antonia wore over her suit, with the exception that his was marked by burns as if a branding. His disheveled appearance gave some small indication of the punishment he'd endured since being in her custody, but with his healing periodically allowed to repair him through selective reactivation, it would say nothing of the full scope of suffering.

There was no remorse on her face. She remembered all too clearly the massacre at the accidental discovery of his brother's grave, and of hearing the news that Quintus had been killed, and countless other private pains she had personally suffered, both directly and indirectly because of him.

"He is in my custody and will remain that way for the foreseeable future." Knowing his allies, she considered it a very small blessing to be holding him. Dangerous allies would come for him. But that was exactly what Antonia was counting on. Steadily rising murmurs sounded from the crowd, many looking to be in pain over the questions they wanted to ask, comments they wanted to record. Antonia flashed a mockingly pitying smile. They were getting restless. She would allow them their freedom soon enough.

"I suppose this would also be the right time to add that Avalon is expanding further in the near future. With the numerous attacks on so many cities of late, we will be looking to establish a private security company, operating in both foreign and domestic lands, for the purpose of keeping these places safe from such rampant terrorism. More on that later. For now, you may ask your questions."

As soon as she gave the word, the crowd broke into their unintelligible shouting, all clamoring to have personal questions asked. For many, careers would be made that night, history made, future legacies solidified. More than anything, it was Antonia's own life that would see the most drastic change, much of it calculated long ago, and still more yet to be foreseen.

LOL, I started writing posts like that maybe two or three months ago. It flows better for me when I'm writing, and the smaller the paragraph is, the easier it is for the reader to keep their attention on it :P

@whisper_: Interesting! Usually I feel very short paras (like yours) can break up the tone as you write really well, and if I feel engaged, a long paragraph can hold my attention as opposed to a few short ones.